


Left Off the Tree

by Hufflepuff_Forever



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, F/M, Gen, Muggle-born, Muggle/Wizard Relations, One Shot, Original Character(s), Post-Sirius Black in Azkaban, Sad Sirius Black, The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-24 08:53:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16171760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hufflepuff_Forever/pseuds/Hufflepuff_Forever
Summary: A sad little one shot of Sirius Black in the early days of Prisoner of Azkaban.





	Left Off the Tree

**Author's Note:**

> Originally, I intended this to be a fairly long fic, and it was posted with a different description. It was a one shot head canon, I thought I could work into something more. Rather than abandoning the fic, I've decided to leave it as a one shot. Cheers.

July 1993

It hadn’t been difficult to find the address for Fiona, even after eleven years. Luckily she had never married, so it wasn’t incredibly hard for him to track an eleven year old flame down, even in Greater London. 

He found her living on a sprawling council estate in Dagenham, working a mundane job to build those contraptions muggles loved so much, cars. 

Fiona looked rundown. She had gained a few pounds, and her hair had some premature streaks of grey mixed into the mahogany colored brown. Her face had lines where there had formerly been smooth skin. Nonetheless, she seemed okay. 

He trotted along a few metres back. She lived close enough to the factory where she worked to walk home. She had noticed him, but no one seems to be troubled when a bony, old stray follows them home. She had even smiled a few times at him. Her smile, was still the same after a little longer than a decade. It still showcased the small gap between her front teeth. 

Fiona reached her front door. She was still eyeing the old dog out of the cornerstone of her eye. 

“Oh, come on in ya old thing,” she waved the black dog over the threshold. 

The doorway led straight into a small sitting room. It was small, but warm. White walls. A floor lamp lit up the room and the dull hum of a television. 

A little girl. Around ten or eleven was sprawled out on a love seat. Her eyes were fixated on the television. 

“Hey, mum,” the little girl said nonchalantly. She had a dark brown braids, lily white skin, and hazel eyes. Hazel eyes just like her mum. 

The little girl notice something out of the corner of her eye. 

“Mum! Is that a dog?! You got us a dog?!” 

“I felt bad leaving him out. We’ll feed him and see what Craig says about keeping him. He’s kinda mangy.” Fiona rubbed the old dogs ears. The little girl ran over off the love seat to pet the him. 

“What should we name him, mum?” 

“I dunno Madeline.” Fiona was heating up some canned food over the hob.

The door opened again; a bald man in his mid forties walked in. He was brawny and stout. A little shorter than Fiona. 

“The hell is this mutt doing in here? He’ll give us fleas?”

The black dog whined. 

Craig swiftly put the dog out. 

The dog paced back and forth around the doorstep a few times before letting out a sorrowful howl. 

 

Back inside, the three sat around the television and ate some canned stew. 

“Ya know,” Craig said, pointing his fork at Fiona, “I take you and your girl in, and you bring a damn mutt into my place. I mean, I let that girl, with no father to call her own live under my roof as mine. T’a’int grateful at all.” 

Fiona and Madeline looked down at their plates. 

“He’s jus’ a dog.” 

They ate in silence.

The television flickered. 

 

Outside, the dog was now transformed into a ragged, emaciated shell of a man.  
He peered from the bushes into the front window at Fiona. There she was, with a family. But she hadn’t married? Maybe she just kept the last name? Yes, some muggles do that. He was happy she was happy. 

Of course, there is a bitter taste left staring at what could have been your own. She obviously didn’t waste much time finding someone else. That girl couldn't be that old. 

Something familiar caught his eye. 

At first he thought it was his reflection.

Then he realized it was...what did they call it? The television?  
He was on the television. 

His face. 

His name. 

WANTED: ESCAPED SERIAL MURDER. SIRIUS BLACK. ARMED. DO NOT APPROACH. 

Damn. 

Even the muggles were after him. 

Suddenly, he became much more aware of his surroundings. 

The protection of dog form was worth the fleas, especially when every citizen, muggle or wizard, in Great Britain was being told to watch out for your face. 

He transformed.

Sirius became Padfoot once again. 

In dog form, he looked back at Fiona’s house once again. He admired the light shining through the windows. Padfoot let out a small cry. 

There was no need to visit here again. 

The dog trotted off at a decent speed, debating if it would be quicker to cross the Thames to reach Privet Drive.


End file.
